Values
by BruisedIntentions
Summary: Imagine what it'd be like if when the 300 grounders had been burned, the mountain men hadn't came and captured them, causing a chain link that we call Season 2, and of course Season 3... So what will it be like? Will Clarke suffer with her decision to burn all those grounders? Will she come to realize that Finn and Bellamy aren't dead? What will become of the 100?...


Jacqueline Copple

I'm really not sure why I'd wasted my life on my computer, never bothering to look up from my phone at school, and to actually learn something. I didn't think that everything would all come to an end so quickly. It didn't occur, that ever second I wasted on my phone-or on my computer, I could've been spending time with my mom.

I push my laptop to the side when my cheerful mother practically bellows my name from downstairs. 'She's probably just calling me because dinner is finally done.' I assure myself. Exiting my neon cyan painted bedroom, my phone in hand, I made an attempt to walk downstairs but my mother pulled me back into my room and shut the door, twisting the lock tight. "Mom, I was just heading down to see you, why'd you come up? Am I in trouble?" and by the look on her face, I can definitely tell that I, for one, am _not_ in trouble. At least not yet, I'm not. "That voice that sounded similar to mine, from down the stairs? You heard that too right?" I nodded at her question, and quickly replied with a simple 'why'. "That wasn't me. I've been upstairs folding Jack's clothes." Jack is my 5 year old brother, who'd happened to be at my dad's house right now. "Mom, if you're up here, then who's downstairs…?" I was shortly cut off by a light tapping on the door. "Honey, come out will you? I cooked your favorite! Mash potatoes. Oh, and of course I mixed some corn into it, you and your weird eating habits!" The similar voice beamed. Suddenly, I felt sick, not because I didn't like mash potatoes and corn, I _loved it._ That's what freaked me out, and churned my stomach. I backed myself against the door, cautiously eyeing my 'mom'. I unlocked the door and slowly backed out as I noticed a, confused look on her face. That is NOT my mother! I dead bolted down the stairs, thankfully we had carpet stairs because I certainly would've lipped due to my fuzzy socks, and it would not have been pretty!

Finally reaching the kitchen, I eye my _real_ mom. "Mom, we have to go. Now!" I bellow, running to her. "First, eat dinner honey. Then we can go wherever you'd like!" She smiled, now _this_ was my mother. I quickly ate, not noticing the strange taste it put in my mouth. After eating, I felt as if I'd needed to lie down, but it didn't occur to me, that my mashed potatoes were actually mashed eyeballs of human beings, and the corn? Yellow teeth, possibly from people with poor hygiene. I clenched my stomach, but quickly moved on as I watched my mother unzip her body off, and in front of me? This alienated zombie looking figure. It was my mother, of course. Just, not actually her. I turned and began to back out of the room, from a different exit then the way I came in, but this of course failed and I'd found myself tripping over my mother's dead, warm body. She was dead, _and_ warm. This meant she hadn't been dead long, she'd had to have just died. I then realize what I'd done. The figure upstairs, was my mother and my over-analyzing scanned past that and in the time I was busy over-analyzing my food, the zombie figure killed my mother, and I had no clue! There was no scream, no nothing. After all these years of being on my phone, or computer, you'd think I'd learn in one of my horror-binging stages to run at this point-but I didn't. I stayed, and grieved over my loss. That, was my first mistake.

Staying may have been my first, but definitely was not my worst mistake that night. My second mistake, was calling for the police, because the second I did, and the moment the phone picked up, I felt something jump out from the phone, and crawl into my ear, and through my brain. It didn't go out the other side, I ran to the bathroom in an attempt to get it out and it didn't come out, and as I'd finally looked up, I'd noticed that my reflection wasn't in the mirror, _I_ wasn't in the mirror, my reflection wasn't there. Nothing, was there.


End file.
